His Drummer Boy
by Layla-Fae
Summary: He found that somewhat funny in a sense. The stereotype joke of having a crush on the drum major was that it was a good thing, because you get to look at them all the time. He never expected to have the same benefit as the viewer when it came to having a crush on the center snare player. High School Marching Band AU


He was always in the back of the room, where his section was located. It was like his little safe zone, he observed, that he only left for very little time. He was also only doing one of the three when he was there as well: tapping away on his drum, reading a very thick book, or shooting rubber bands at the underclass men with his section and laughing at the shock and confusion they cause.

Oh, yes. Watching him was not only lovely and delightful to see, but entertaining as well. He was his favorite to study out of the whole, and that was saying something, since he was the drum major.

He found that somewhat funny in a sense. The stereotype joke of having a crush on the drum major was that it was a good thing, because you get to look at them all the time. He never expected to have the same benefit as the viewer when it came to having a crush on the center snare player.

They were in the same class together, which was odd, considering that they never spoken before till high school, and then more later on their junior year when he became drum major and he became center snare. Now they were seniors, and he was finding himself falling into a deep hole that he was almost sure he won't get out of. Even if he wanted too.

It began late year, during summer band camp, when he was constantly looking at all the staring eyes of his other band members, when he found himself looking at his the most. He had dark irises that made him feel as if he was in a trance that took over his senses and mind. He was neither paralyzed or energetic, but somewhere where neither existed and he was now somewhere in between. He loved it, and when he realized he was conducting somewhat decently to the beat and the music, it all was dazzling within that moment. He couldn't help but discover, in that moment, his own home, in the mix of it all. And it was all in those eyes.

It was later on, when he was in a ruthless whirlpool of emotions and drowning by a lethal douse of stress, when he did it again to him, making him fully realize what was happening. They were at their first marching competition of the season and everyone was in a frenzy. It was raining harshly that day, and they were the last one to perform. Half the band was crying and the other half were yelling. It was his job to sort it all out and fix it all in time for the show, while he tried to keep his own nerves at bay. The task was already hard enough, and with his band director (or _dick_ ator) giving him a sardonic scowl the whole time, only made the doing tenfold harder.

It was finally time for warm up when he felt himself beginning to break from the pressure that was starting to suffocate him inside and out. The tune of the show music he had been droning all day had disappeared, and he was now standing in front of the band with his arms up in a stupid manner, his mind completely blank. He felt himself about to die if he didn't start soon, which did not help him any more. He looked at the drumlins for a desperate lost plead for help, making connect with those dark eyes again. Everything stopped again, beginning with a slight raise of the drumstick. They breathed together and the show began.

They were overall winners that night, and he never felt so alive and grateful. He also was never so confused and lost. It didn't matter either way; he was in bliss and chaos.

It was strange, since he barely spoke to him that year, and very little out of the context of the sound of the beat and keeping time with it. He found himself, for once, discouraged at the thought of the untamable challenge. Normally, he would never hesitant on keeping eye contact with the enemy as he defeated it gracefully, but the drummer boy cause that factor of his to efface and make his mind began to second guess everything as his heart bested loudly and his hands become sweaty and shaking. It was always the same for him in the end; being left there like an idiot with a strict taciturn characteristic that he just randomly developed. He supposed it was alright in a way; the drummer boy never noticed him anyway.

He first thought it was him being an awkward teenager again. He was just being weird, and it was no big deal. Then it didn't fade away like it was suppose too and he found himself in another new discovery about himself, caused by the drummer boy yet again.

He realized it soon enough for him to studied him even more then normally did, which wasn't that much more since he was constantly on his radar anyway. It also didn't take that long for him to find him all cuddly with another percussionist one day at after-school practice. He was a pit player, and was the polar image of who he was. He had blonde hair with a crocked smile and an easy-going personality. He even had the cute lazy posture that was reflected through the way his arms wrapped loosely around Nico shoulders and chest.

He felt the sudden poignant emotion fill up his chest like he was drowning again. His confidence abolished at the sight that made him stop walking and tense up like a cat. He never hated the sight of a couple before, and he had the urge to go over and yell at them for being on the speaker, which they all knew not to do, but he went against it. He walked on to his stand and ponder over how stupid he was for being a dark haired prick that was always up everyone's ass. It was his first heart break without anyone else even knowing or noticing, much less caring.

He cried once he got home, pushing through the empty house and hating himself more for being so emotional and immature about sometime so little and stupid. He hated himself that night, along with those eyes and that feeling of home.

It was days later when the juicy gossip hit his ears from his blond flute friend. It was proven later on at practice, once again on the same speaker. It was the same golden boy, but instead of his drummer boy, it was the brown headed trumpet player on second part.

His drummer boy was under a tree in the shade, with his friends, throwing sunflower seeds at everyone who passes by. He had never been so relieved by flying plants so much in his life.

That was practice earlier that week. It was now the end of the week, where a large amount of high school kids gather outside on the field, drinking water like they were dying. He was sitting on his podium, band people watching like he normally did, his eyes always casting over to the drummer boy under the shade of the tree. He fascinated him with his fashion (and common) sense, and how he only dressed in dark colors, mainly black, and marched in the same clothing, like the threat of a heat stroke didn't make him waver his decision at all. He could tell easily that he was stubborn.

Practice went by smoothly, and ended early. He was pleased by this, seeing that he had the chance to change for work and socialize before heading out. That sweet dream was destroyed once he went inside the band room and Mr. Apollo waved him over to see him in his office. As drum major, it was a terrifying moment. He been in the office plenty of times for small meetings and such but it still frighten him to death in case that one day he wanted to see him for something other than conducting correctly.

He stood in that room, with a large desk in front of him, and a mean looking man glaring at him, to only be ordered the very task that he did not want.

 _"I need you to go and tell Mr. Di Angelo that his hair is too long. He knows the policy. His hair can't be seen from under the helmet. Go."_

He wanted to die, which was stupid in his own personal option. He usually loved talking to people and making friends, but when it came to the drummer boy his was secretly madly in love with, his happiness vanished at the statement.

He was a nervous wreck was slowly crumbling as he walked up to him. He told himself to stand straighter and walk more a normal human being, but each time he looked up to see him standing in his home at the back of his room. He stood with the two other snares, laughing at something one of them said. When his drummer boy hunched over his drum from laughing so hard, he took off and walked up with very little confidence and ease. It was all gone by the time he reached them and he looked at his drummer boy's face.

It was an odd finding, he gathered, that he never noticed his hair length before. He knew most of the remaining features of his face but the way how his hair curled sweetly at the crook of his neck and shoulder had escape his mind completely. He never saw it that long before, and maybe never as good. At least he knew the way he broadcasted his Italian heritage by his strong and bold jawline and collarbone without trying. How he smiled with lithe pink lips and only showed the top row of his slightly yellow teeth. He assumed that it was from all the energy drinks he inhaled on a daily bases.

 _"Hey Percy. What ya need?"_

He tried to reminded himself to breath, finally accepting that he was a complete fucktard. He looked for the right words to say, opening his mouth at first, but nothing came out till seconds later, and even then it was stupid.

 _"Y-You have amazing hair..."_

The three looked slightly stunned yet flatter about the statement. Nico ran his hand through it, like he was petting a beloved pet. He thanked him for the complement.

 _"Thanks Perce, I work hard on it every-"_

 _"But you have to cut it."_

He gasped, jokingly, along with his friends. Then falsely broke down in pretend tears, sobbing over his hair, holding it in fists like it was his life source. He and his friends then ruffled his hair. He wished he could join in, but he was afraid of coming off weird to them, so he simply kept his hands to himself. He scowled himself again.

Once they were done playing, his drummer boy looked up at him again with those beautiful eyes and smile. He felt himself relax for the first time around him. He never felt so comfortable, so at home.

 _"Thanks Percy. Don't worry, I will."_

{...}

 **Okay, here's how it goes: Percy is the drum major of his high school band, and he is crushing hard on the center snare player, Nico, who is also a senior. Percy tells about how he first really noticed Nico when he just became drum major and found him to be the cutest little thing out of the crowd. He mainly looks at him because he likes him, but also to keep the beat, because, you know, that's what drum majors do. At the end, Percy has to tell Nico to cut his long hair because that's against band rules and is nervous about it because he has never spoken to Nico casually before but ends up liking him more because Nico didn't hate him for it. The blond headed flute player was Annabeth. The blond put player was Will, and his brown headed pattern was Nyssa from Bunker 9 (didn't see that coming, now did ya?)**

 **I mainly wrote this because I'm in band and wanted to write something about it. I'm also in the mood for writing one shots so, why not? I hope other readers in HS band find this okay, and maybe cute because I like making you guys happy.**

 **Thanks for reading! Please review!**


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